A Taste for Potions
by WineRedKiss
Summary: A young dhampir- witch has come to Hogwarts and must rely on Professor Snape to make her potions so she can blend in with the rest of the student body.
1. Ch1, A Rare Breed

***This is a Snape x OC student fanfic. There will be sex, sexual arousal, violence, and blood.***

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~Chapter One: A Rare Breed.

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"Artemisia Relic." The stern woman called, startling the girl out of her inner most thoughts. A small boy behind her lightly shoved her forward, flashing an encouraging smile.

Artemisia approached the three legged stool in front of the gathered mass, gingerly plucking the tattered mess of a Wizard's hat up off of the ancient wooden surface. Her river stone blue eyes scanned the crowd, wishing a familiar face rested within it. The girl sank down on the stool, carefully balancing herself. The remains of the hat felt fragile and cool as it slid over her brow.

 _What's this, then?_ A quiet voice asked. Her hands squeezed the stool tightly, letting the worn edges bite into her palms. _You aren't the usual type... are you?_

 _No, I'm not._ Artemisia thought back to it, her heart racing.

The old hat snorted, _I don't believe that we've ever had one of your kind here before... but, I guess it better be..._

"SLYTHERIN!" It suddenly shouted out loud. She ripped the hat off of her head as the far table began to applaud. With a forced a smile, she slipped from the stool like smoke and hurried to join her new house.

As expected, the usual interest was on her immediately. Artemisia wasn't like the other witches and wizards at Hogwarts. Not just because she was a transfer, but because they knew the girl sitting beside them was more than human... even if they didn't exactly know how they knew.

A white-blond haired boy- a fifth year- smiled at her. It wasn't the friendly sort of smile one would expect. She however, knew it well. This must be the unofficial Prince of Slytherin judging by the way his lackeys were practically strapped to his side.

"Artemisia Relic, was it?" His nose scrunched, "That doesn't sound like any pureblood name _I've_ ever heard. I'm Draco Malfoy. Are you a _mudblood?_ "

Her muscles tensed at his tone but her face remained calm and relaxed, unwilling to let his obvious distain bother her or show. She smiled charmingly at him.

"Yes, I suppose. My mother was a muggle as far as I know." Artemisia answered him, river-stone eyes resting on his icy blue ones.

He made a rude noise in the back of his throat. "What of your father?"

"I know very little. I was raised as an orphan in America. As far as I know, he was a Frenchman... but other than that I'll likely never know."

The boy's shrewish gaze tore away from hers in irritation, resting instead on the archaic form of the Headmaster who had risen from his seat.

She tried to listen to what the man was saying, but all she could hear was the sounds of her own blood rushing in her ears. A hot and shivery tidal wave of confusion sweeping over her as the world around her tilted. Artemisia screwed her eyes shut, hoping that the feeling would fade. In the distance she vaguely heard the sound of an irritating female's voice interrupting the Headmaster with an odd hiccuping noise. More than that, she couldn't tell.

After what seemed like hours her head began to clear and she found herself starting down at a pile of mashed potatoes as though it were of the upmost interest and importance. Her head snapped up and she took a quick look around herself, thanking the powers that be that she was fortunate enough to have not gathered any attention to herself from her house.

Draco Malfoy had moved on, telling some grandiose tale to an enraptured group of girls who wanted him only for his name.

It was a pity really.

The hungry way they gathered around him as he spoke... a black and white picture of the life that awaited him flashed through her, featuring himself and woman that she assumed would be his wife and a small boy. He was much older, some of the smugness had left him.

Artemisia smiled at the thought before some imagined force slammed into her. She covered her face with her hands and groaned, her stomach contracting violently.

She glanced around at the other tables, hoping that no one noticed her odd behavior. She looked at the high table where the professors sat and the Headmaster and Artemisia locked eyes. A worried frown curving the edges of his mouth before he gestured at a man clad in black farther down the table. The man had an aquiline face with deep onyx eyes and silky shoulder length black hair that he swept impatiently out of his face as he rose to his full and impressive height. He was at the Headmaster's side in a moment.

She dropped her gaze back to her untouched plate of food. After all this time... she still wasn't sure why she was so upset or embarrassed about herself. It had always been this way. She was born this way... it's not as if she could help it.

Like a brush against the back of her neck she felt the weight of the man's stare on her and knew that this must be the Potions Master that the Headmaster had been telling her about when she arrived this morning.

The one who'd be supplying her potion.

The one who currently was making his way towards her at this very moment.

Artemisia felt the other students shift around her uncomfortably as the man stopped by her side and she turned towards him politely, lifting her gaze to his.

"Miss Relic. I am your head of house, Professor Snape. I am also the Potions Master here at Hogwarts." He drawled deeply, the sound of his voice like a low rumble of thunder in the distance.

"I'm pleased to meet you." She replied, inclining her head towards him. Her lips curving into a small simpering smile.

Professor Snape stared down his nose impassively at her for a long and awkward moment as though he were weighing the authenticity of her statement.

"Follow me." He ordered, turning sharply on his heel. His robes billowed behind him as he made his way down the narrow isle between the student house tables, never once turning to see if she followed. Artemisia watched him dumbly as he got farther and farther away before loping after him.

The castle was fairly quiet, not yet over run by the students who had returned for another year at Hogwarts. Artemisia smiled at the paintings that lined the walls, some of which greeted her politely and others that simply ignored her. The temperature plummeted suddenly as they came to a stair well. Artemisia stopped beside the Professor, looking up at him curiously.

His black gaze sliced into hers as he gestured to the stairs, "This is the way to the dungeons. This is where your common room, potions class, and my office is held."

She turned back to the foreboding space and nodded. He descended the stairs swiftly and she followed without hesitation. The damp mouldering scent invaded her nostrils. The chill air caused goose flesh to rise on her arms and legs until they finally came to a halt infront of a large wooden door.

Professor Snape pulled out his wand and unlocked and unwarded the door in one silent and sinuous movement that was both impressive and telling of his skill as a wizard. The faint shudder of magic being dispelled ran over her face and shoulders like a soft sweet breath and she sighed.

Artemisia stood back as the dark Professor entered the room, the sconces that were bolted to the wall flaring to life with a casually thrown hand. Somewhere on the opposite side of the room a faucet leaked, the droplets of water pinging against the basin in an almost rhythmic timing.

The world around her lurched suddenly and her eyelids drooped. The scent of the room was strong. So many half-forgotten scents of potions, ingredients, and students lingered. The strongest and most recent she knew belonged to the Professor who currently was rummaging through a cabinet containing innumerable potions. They clicked and clanked as they were shifted around.

She ran a lazy hand through her hair, pulling the ink black locks over her shoulder in a cascade that slid like silk down to her waist. She could feel her heart pounding against her throat and her pupils dilating. The familiar ache in her mouth almost made her growl.

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x Snape's POV.

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Professor Snape straightened abruptly, holding a bottle of wine red liquid up to the light to scrutinize it. Appearently satisfied with its contents he slowly approached her. His dark eyes watched her with interest as her gaze zeroed in on the bottle and flashed violet. She reached out to take it from him but withdrew just as quickly, adverting her gaze.

"The Headmaster has of course informed me of your... nature. I can't say that I've ever encountered a dhampir before. Your kind is incredibly rare, as I understand." He spoke softly and without inflection, his drawling voice echoing in the empty room.

Artemisia forced herself to look at him, "Yes, sir... there are not many of us. I've only met one other."

The Professor hummed lowly in his throat, glancing back at the bottle in his hand and smirking when he looked up to find her stare also fixed on it.

" _Sanguis Faux Substitutus_ ," he whispered, turning the bottle this way and that to allow the light to reflect off of the dark red liquid inside. "Are you familiar with it?"

Artemisia nodded slowly, her fangs sliding effortlessly out of their sheaths and pricking her bottom lip. She quickly licked away the blood. "I am. I've been drinking it for the past month in preparation of attending Hogwarts."

Professor Snape stilled in interest at the sight of her fangs and then glanced to her eyes. Her pupils were the size of olives with a vicious violet ring around them. A smile dared to twitch against his lips. He supposed that he ought to allow the creature her sustenance before she decided he would make an adequate meal.

He'd hate to have to explain why he'd murdered a student... one ought not to tempt and tease a beast such as this. He dangled the bottle from careless fingertips in front of the young dhampir, shaking it slightly to encourage her to take it. Her hand closed around the neck of the bottle and in one swift movement she had pried the cork out and raised the bottle to her dark red lips. Her lips crushed together into a straight line and she lowered it again, self-consciously turning to the side for privacy before she poured it down her throat.

When she was finished she let out a low sound of satisfaction and shuddered. Sheepishly she turned back to face him, her face flushed and her eyes faded back to a bluish shade of stone. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing, opting to observe instead.

"Thank you, Professor..." she sighed, wrapping a length of her hair around one hand and closing her eyes. "I've been rather thirsty."

"How much substitute do you require?" He asked, more curious for the sake of research than of actually caring about her needs.

She smiled charmingly at him, "I am comfortable with three to four a day."

His brow furrowed. It was more than he had expected. He currently only had six on hand. He'd have to brew more at once to adequately satiate her.

"Will you be needing more tonight?"

"No, Sir. I'll be fine for tonight. I had a dose this morning." She assured him, corking the bottle and handing it back.

"I see. What did they do to accommodate your needs back in America?" He took the bottle from her and gently set it down on the desk beside him.

Artemisia flushed and looked away in shame, an odd flash of what looked like pain shivered over her features. "Well, you see... _Sanguis Faux Substitutes_ is rather expensive to make. Being the only dhampir to have ever attended Ilvermorny, well... they kept small animals for me. Mostly rabbits because they breed fast."

Professor Snape's brows came together in a scowl as the dhampir's lip trembled.

"Why feel guilty for taking what you must?" He asked, his tone sharp and reprimanding. "They were just rabbits."

She shrugged her shoulders in response, still refusing to meet his gaze. "I suppose. One rabbit lasts me for about two days if I'm not doing too strenuous of activities. I need two on a bad day..." she squirmed under his scrutiny. "um... Thank you again, Sir. May I go to the commons now?"

"You are excused, Miss Relic. Come to my office in the morning for another potion. Do not hesitate to seek me out for more, if the need arises. I will have one thing be made perfectly clear. There will be _no_ feeding from students under any circumstances and they aren't to know what kind of creature you are."

Artemisia blinked back tears, her face pinching with hurt. "I- I've never fed from a human before."

"That is irrelevant. It will not start." He fixed her with a glower, watching her lip tremble with the threat of tears.

"Yes, sir..." the dhampir whispered, rushing from the room to what he could only expect was the Commons.

He pursed his lips as she went, turning his gaze to the emply bottle beside him. A single red drop was the only evidence left of the potion.


	2. ch 2, A lonely life

This is set during Order of the Phoenix.*

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Chapter 2, A lonely life.~

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Artemisia crept into the dark common room, feeling miserable. She wrongly thought that perhaps Professor Snape held no prejudice against dhampirs. She'd never fed from a human before... Why would she start now? She knew by the look in his black eyes that he was almost amused by her needs. Artemisia was even willing to bet he was the type who got off on such power play... the git. If she could find a different source she'd tell him to sod off.

She was almost certain that he'd said those things just to hurt her. He was the kind who'd do that. Of course, he would have already known that Headmaster Dumbledore explained to her in advance the rules regarding her condition. No one other than the Professor and Madame Pomfrey knew that she was a dhampir.

It would cause absolute chaos for her if anyone knew... why would she not safeguard her biggest and most damning secret? It was completely absurd to think that she'd purposely out herself. People already reacted strangely enough to her.

Many were attracted and charmed, but others were repulsed and filled with a disgust and a hate that they didn't understand. They could sense that she was other than they were. More than human. A proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing... an unnatural beast wearing a human skin. One that was always waiting in every darkened corner of her mind. Writhing like a serpent underneath her flesh, just waiting in barely stilled domestication for prey.

She knew she was beautiful. Hauntingly so. In true dhampir and vampirical fashion, her skin was pale but she did not possess the vampire's deathly pallor. Her hair was thick, soft, and darker than the night itself. It curled in soft waves down to her waist like ringlets of smoke. She was slender yet curved in all of the womanly places. She was a predator, after all.

It was the nature of such creatures to be alluring.

Artemisia would never be physically able to become ill from human or wizard ailments. She had a natural resistance to most magic cast on her. Spells would still effect her, of course, but they'd do significantly less damage. She still wouldn't survive being hit by the killing curse. She'd also be especially vulnerable to fire spells but a stunner had a very good chance of rolling right off of her.

She had the sight, vampire compulsion, and was a natural occulmens. Her legilimency was a tad weak... but if she were to practice it could get better. It would be easy enough.

Being a dhampir had it's perks... but it was incredibly lonely at times. Artemisia signed and sank down into a cold black leather chair near the fire. The chill in the dungeon was almost comforting. She stated into the crimson flames and remembered a similar fire in some distant and hidden place inside of her.

When she was small, she lived at an orphanage. It was a ricketty building that was not well cared for. It was always so cold in the winter time...

A small sound snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned to watch a familiar boy pad quietly into the commons. He had been sitting just a couple of bodies away during dinner. He paused and looked up from the book he'd been leafing through and scanned the commons. Even humans had an extra sense that alerted them of being watched, especially by a predator, such as herself. She could almost see the hair on the back of his neck rise when he suddenly locked eyes with her.

"Oh, hello." He greeted, turning towards her with a polite smile. "My name is Blaise. Blaise Zabini."

Artemisia's face reacted faster than her brain and she smiled automatically. "I'm Artemisia."

"I know." Blaise said, walking the short distance to come to rest opposite of her in an identical leather chair.

They sat in silence. Both watching the fire dance in the grate and lost in their own thoughts until Blaise spoke again.

"You had a tough time with our Head of House, I take it?" He glanced at her from the side of his eye. Artemisia shrugged.

"He just wanted to go over the ground rules for Slytherin and made it clear that I was not about any rule."

Blaise cracked a smile. "That sounds like him. We've never had a transfer student in 6th year before." He furrowed a dark brow, "At least not that I've ever heard of... but there's always a first for everything."

"Yes, well... Ilvermorny and I just didn't work out. It's better this way. Even if Professor Snape is unpleasant."

Blaise sniggered at that, choking out something that sounded suspiciously like "you have no idea."

A companionable silence grew between them. Blaise eventually returned to his book, the soft scrape and sigh of the turning pages and the crackling of flames were the only sounds that filled the commons as the hours ticked by. The boy's head began to tilt and his eyelids grew heavy.

"Blaise," she said softly. "why don't you go ahead and go to bed?"

Blaise stirred and finally closed his book. "Are you sure? I don't mind keeping you company."

Artemisia nodded. "I'm going to be up for awhile longer."

The boy regarded her silently, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Alright then. Goodnight, Artemisia ."

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x Snape's POV

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Severus stood with his head bent over the cauldron, a light sheen of sweat just beginning to form on his brow. He stirred the potion three times clockwise before slowly adding powdered bloodroot. He reduced the flame to but a small flicker in order to allow it to simmer.

He peered into the cauldron at the dark red liquid contemplatively. He had quadrupled the recipe in order to make enough to last for at least four days. _Sanguis faux substitutus_ took a few hours to complete, but he was used to long nights spent bent over a bubbling cauldron. He withdrew a pristine white handkerchief from his robes and dabbed his forehead to prevent any of his sweat from falling into the potion.

It was a particularly temperamental brew. It required a steady and practiced hand to make it the correct potency. The slightest mistake could render the entire batch unusable and ineffective.

The dhmphir was a curious creature. One that he'd admittedly felt a burning curiosity to study at length. The halfling spawn of a human and a vampire... Most died in the womb or during infancy due to their very sensitive systems. They were very rare. An adolescent- nearly adult- dhampir that was also a witch was eiteither a roadside attraction or a medical anomaly.

He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before frowning. It was a shame that he couldn't study Miss Relic. He was sure Dumbledore would object to him using the girl as a test subject. It was just as well... he wouldn't want to damage such a specimen anyway. She was too rare to be squandered on testing.

Artemisia Relic would be an interesting addition to his classes. He would say he had high hopes and expectations for her, but he doubted that she could ever accommodate them. That dreaded time of the year had come again... he was relegated to attempting to teach children how to brew potions. It would be a much more pleasant fate to appear in front of the Dark Lord for torture, he was sure.

He didn't really mind children all that much... It was trying to keep them from blowing up everything in the immediate vicinity that was the problem. The dolts.

He was getting a bloody headache just thinking about it.

If the Relic girl showed any aptitude for potions at all perhaps he'd get Headmaster Dumbledore's approval to teach her _Sanguis faux substitutus_ so he could be free of one less obligation.

Merlin knew he had enough to shoulder already.

Severus walked towards his chambers lost in thought. His face was blank and his long black hair obscured his features. Then potion wouldn't be ready until early morning and he had already placed a charm on the cauldron to keep it from bubbling over or from simmering too long... perhaps with luck he could get a few hours of rest. He murmured the password to the unassuming door that led to his rooms and shut it behind himself quickly, double checking that his wards were still in place. Then he systematically checked the place over to make sure no hostile persons had gained entrance whilst he was away.

It never hurt to be overly cautious about one's dwelling place.

After he was certain, he shedded his robes and donned his night attire. Almost automatically his hands searched his nightstand drawer for a small vile. He peered at it for a moment, wishing that he could sleep and rest without the dreamless sleep draught.

With a sigh he uncorked it and downed the bitter liquid. His lip curled into a sneer at the taste and he slipped beneath his black silk sheets. They were cool against his skin and it helped to distract him from his thoughts as his eyelids grew heavy and his body went numb from the draught. With any luck, he'd rest well tonight. One could only hope.

Artemisia's P.O.V*

Artemisia's feet tread softly and silently on her way to Professor Snape's office. Her left hand idly tugged on the knot of her tie, the green and silver material slipping between her fingers. She was very hungry again... the scent of so many bodies made her delirious. She had to escape. She wouldn't feed on humans, especially not when there were vials of a suitable food source just down the corridor.

The heavy wooden door to Snape's office was shut tight and she stood in front of it, studying each mark and swirl in the wood. She knew that the Professor was inside. She could hear the scratching of his quill against the parchment and she could smell the ink that he was using.

He had no papers to mark yet, so she was unsure as to wether it would be wrong to interrupt him for her breakfast or not. Her mouth was partched and her fangs ached. The delirium of the urge to feed rolled over her and she knocked.

"Enter." A stern drawl prompted.

Artemisia took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled out of her mouth before pushing open the door. She held her head up confidently and padded into the room without a sound. The man in black didn't look up at her entrance, but she was certain that he knew who it was. He stayed bent over whatever he was doing for several long moments before his onyx eyes flicked towards hers.

"May I help you?" He asked, his lips pursed in distaste.

"Yes, sir. I am here for..." she blushed and curled her toes in her shoes. "I'm here for a dose of _Sanguis faux substitutus."_

Professor Snape eyed her for a moment, his expression never changing. The silence stretched even further when he looked back down at his work. He flicked the feathery end of his quill at a black leather chair in front of his desk.

"Be seated and stay silent." He ordered.

Artemisia sat down stiffly in front of him and watched him scrawl several long sentences down.

Snape's P.O.V*

Severus was just finishing up his order for more ingredients for Miss Relic's potions when a knock sounded on the door.

"Enter." He said shortly. Despite the dreamless sleep draught he still felt very under-rested and weary. He continued to write down ingredients he needed and specified the proper drying or preservation methods he needed for each one.

He knew it was Miss Relic by the shiver that ran up his spine when she entered the room. It was hard to fight the urge to stand up and attack. It was like being surrounded by a pack of wolves and simply doing nothing while they closed in on you... after a moment the feeling passed and she felt like nothing more than a normal girl though the unease still hung thickly in the air around them.

"May I help you?"

"Yes, sir. I am here for..." the dhampir's cheeks turned a soft shade of pink that was barely decernible from her porcelain face, "I'm here for a dose of _Sanguis faux substitutus."_

He took note of the gleam in her eyes. She had a sort of dazed look about her... _hungry in deed._

"Be seated and stay silent."

He glanced back down at his order list for the apothecary in Diagon Alley and finished writing the last few instructions. The nearer she came on her way to sit in the chair in front of his desk the more he felt unsettled. The hair on the back of his neck raised and goose flesh covered his arms. He willed himself not to react and once more -like when she had first entered his office- the sensation faded. He took a careful and relieved breath, masking it as a sigh of exertion.

Severus pushed his orders away carefully to allow the ink to dry completely. He steepled his fingers together and looked at the dhampir. Much to his annoyance, she was waiting patiently. Her eyes were guarded and she was unearthly still, only the gentle rise and fall of her chest prevented her from looking like a statue. She had a certain sharpness to her angelic features... something almost vulpine.

He withdrew the vial that had been resting in his pocket and set it in front of her. She made no move to take it, nor did she look at it.

"What now, Miss Relic, are you not hungry?" He growled. Her deep blue grey eyes flashed at him. When she failed to speak, he continued. "Last night you practically ripped it out of my hand."

This time her fangs shot out, tearing her lower lip as she bared her teeth. "I am capable of controlling myself, believe it or not."

Severus stilled, his face a mask of rage as he stood towering over her and quickly swiped the vial off the desk.

"How. Dare. You?" He glowered down at her, perturbed when she did nothing but bare her fangs again at him, like a cornered cat. "I should think that you'd be more grateful to the hand that feeds you... but perhaps you'd prefer to hunt small woodland creatures for your meal today."

Artemisia stiffened and then rose abruptly, her eyes glowing that same brilliant violet as it had the night before. "I will not be treated this way. Professor or not, you've no reason to bait and antagonize me."

Her voice was a deadly whisper and her inhuman stare held him immobile, almost in a trance. Without another word she spun on her heal and strode out of his office leaving him unsettled, the potion still in hand.

No matter. She'd be back for it soon, he was sure. His brow furrowed, a strange fog that he hadn't noticed before leaving him.

"and 50 points from..." he snarled, slaming his closed fist against his desk in irritation before he ground out, " _Slytherin._ "


	3. ch 3, struggle

**_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter._** x

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 _Thank you, Guest commenter and I hope you continue to enjoy the story and that you had a Merry Christmas as well. :)_

 _This story has not been abandoned!!! I'll be working on_ _it again!!!_

 _x_ _x_ _x ~_ Ch. 3, Struggle.~

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Artemisia attended her new classes on autopilot ignoring the incessant hunger that gnawed at the pit of her stomach. She would _not_ give in. She would prove that she wasn't just some animal that had no control... because she wasn't.

 _SHE WAS NOT._

Her head swam, her mind fading away from her in charms until the diminutive Professor stood infront of her and asked her to preform _accio_ to summon a book to herself. She swept away her dark hair and smiled sheepishly at Professor Flitwick before she did as he asked.

 _"Accio."_ She commanded and a thin volume bound in dark brown leather came sailing through the air to her from the bookshelf where it residesd on the other side of the room.

"Splendid." The little man praised, moving on down the rows of students.

Dinner came and she sat down at the end of the table, away from the furtive glances cast her way until Draco lifted his head and with pursed lips asked her to come to his side. Blaise made room for her and smiled politely. She wondered if this was his doing. She came out of interest, gratefully tucking herself between the two boys, aware qll the while of Pansy Parkinson's enraged glare on her.

"Getting along, are you, Relic?" He asked.

"I am," she conceded, a dainty smile bleeding through. "classes are much more... involved here than they were at Ilvermorny."

Draco hummed in agitation. "Except for defense against the dark arts. At least the flea bitten mongrel from third year taught us something useful. Even Lockhart put on an amusing show... but this-" he gestured sharply to the sickeningly pink Professor Umbridge- "this is rediculous but she does have her uses. She'll have Dumbledore flat on his arse in no time. The fool."

The table agreed that it was horrible and much moaning and growning about Umbridge and Dumbledore both ensued. Artemisia was pushing around a spear of asparagus with the tines of her fork when Blaise's voice cut through her mental fog. "Artemisia?"

"Hm?" she looked towards him, curious.

"How did you manage to lose points from Slytherin yesterday before class?"

"Oh," she sighed, feigning boredom. "I left the dorms too early and Snape caught me in the halls. He must have forgotten I was from his house, he looked like he was going to blow a gasket when he deducted the points from Slytherin." The lie was smooth and believable.

Blaise started laughing, a good, deep laugh. One that made her smile and join in. "I would have liked to see that. He hates when we lose points. He's had his eye on the house cup for some time."

After dinner Artemisia made her way back to the commons, pulling a book out of her bag and planting herself in front of the fire like she did the night before for some reading before she turned in for the night, even though it wasn't yet curfew.

The next day classes came and went in a blur of confusion and hunger. She needed to eat but she resisted. Even when a boy in Herbology sliced his finger open on a thorn while tending to the spikey bushes. It had not appreciated his less than gentle ministrations and threw out a torn. Artemisia knew the very moment it pierced his skin. Her fangs slid out as the smell of blood tainted the air. She took a deep sniff of the fertilizer she was using and they shrank back. In control once more, she contemplated how effective and disgusting dragon dung was in preventing a feeding frenzy.

Classes came and passed. Finally Artemisia had a moment to be alone. She stole away to a shadowy alcove in the hall next to a beautiful stained glass window that featured a harpy to rest between last class and dinner. Her hunger seemed to grow more and more these days. She had heard of Vampires before that couldn't live on _Sanguis Faux Substitutus..._ but surely it was working. It had to be.

Didn't it?

Her troubled mind turned this thought over and over like a stone punished by the tumultuous waves of the ocean, her thoughts crashing against the wall of her hunger and then residing in contemplative silence until the next onslaught of doubt. It had to work. It seemed as though it were working... as long as she drank quite frequently. More frequently than she should have to.

She shuddered to think what would happen if it didn't. She really did not want to go back to feeding from animals...

 _Maybe I should go apologize to Professor Snape? If I apologize, maybe he will give me the potion..._ she immediately shook the idea off. She would _NOT_ grovel. Such behaviors were beneath her. He was a Professor charged with making sure she was fed and that her true nature stayed secret. If he withheld her sustenance from her for too much longer, she'd simply get the Headmaster involved. After all, it was he who ordered Professor Snape to make her potions.

Suddenly, as if an apparition had decended upon her a dark shadow loomed in front of her. She resisted the urge to startle. Almost before his identity had even registered, Professor Snape thrusted a vial into her hand. She looked up at him in confusion but his black gaze betrayed nothing but intense dislike.

"You never came back for your potion."

"I'm used to going hungry." Silence. Professor Snape watched her as she rolled the vial between her hands before looking up at him.

"I apologize for my behaviour yesterday morning, Professor." she said softly to those obsidian eyes. "I don't know what came over me.

Professor Snape stared down hard at lips pressed into a grimace that screamed distaste. "Drink it."

Artemisia droppeded her gaze back down to the bottle. The liquid was quite beautiful. It appeared very similar to that of real blood but it had the most charming hint of light purple when you turned it just so and the light refracted off the bottle. She stared at it, transfixed. Slowly, like watching a stranger's hand she saw herself open the potion and bring it to her lips. The taste was sharp and bitter with just the slightest aftertaste of bloodroot. She downed the entire bottle in one greedy gulp, her tongue swirling instinctively around the opening to catch any stray droplets. She closed her eyes and shuddered. Professor Snape snorted. One quick disdainful sound and her eyes snapped open, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

On his face he wore nothing but a twinkle of malevolent triumph in the blackness of his gaze. His pale hand struck out and plucked the empty bottle from hers before he deposited it carelessly into one of the numerous (yet nearly invisible) pockets in his robes. He left without a word, leaving her full of confusion.

The man was an ineffable enigma. A force unto himself and beholden to none. Cut form his very own cloth, in other words. Even so, she was grateful that he had brought her food.

Snape P.O.V*

He hurried away from the girl, his jaw clenched. She didn't come for her _sanguis faux substitutus._ Not after breakfast. Not after class. Not after lunch. He waited impatiently all throughout the day to see her pitiful form slink into his office and beg him for it. He wouldn't have given it to her if she had, but he expected it none the less. No. She was resolved to wait it out and he fell right into her trap like an idiot by giving in. Insufferable brats, the whole lot of them.

It wasn't concern for her welfare. What with Umbridge about the place sticking her obnoxiously toadlike face into every crevice, nook, and cranny... it would not bode well if Miss Relic were to be discovered. Likely, the old hag would offer her up to the ministry as proof of Dumbledore's incompetence.

He snorted. With a giant man-eating squid in the lake, werewolves and other beast roaming close to the grounds, one dhamphir was of little consequence. This was simply the world they lived in, there was no point in trying to stamp out the creatures of the night.

That morning he woke up early and depositted two vials of _Sanguis Fa_ _ux Substitutus_ into his pocket. He preferred his mornings to himself, uninterrupted and so he made his way to the Slytherin house commons to give Miss Relic her potions for breakfast and lunch. She had her own room to herself, thanks to the strange lack of Slytherin girls in comparison of the other houses. It was six o' clock in the morning and the majority of students were still in bed. He glowered at the bare stretch of cold masonry infront of him.

"Superior." He growled at it and the stones rearranged themselves into a passageway to the commons. Once inside, his gaze was immediately caught by the sight of Miss Relic curled up in a leather chair in front of the fire.

Triggering sexual content ahead. Skip 11 paragraphs. *

At first he believed that she was awake but as he drew closer to the girl he could see that her eyes were closed, her cheeks pink and warm from the heat of the dying flames in the grate. Her breathing was uneven and she murmered to herself as he approached, he froze watching with a red face as she stretched languidly.

She had taken off her robes, vest and loosened her tie before falling asleep. As she stretched her skirt bunched up dangerously high on her thighs and her white shirt had come partially unbuttoned. She moaned quietly, a breathy sound. Her hand was buried between her legs, pulling her skirt up and exposing her white panties. A small line of moisture darkened the fabric between her pale thighs and she moaned again and began to rock her hips, her slender fingers gliding along the wet line.

He held his breath, shock rooting him to the spot. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Slowly her breathing picked up, her movements became purposeful. She bit her lip and pulled the strip of fabric that protected her from his gaze to the side and massaged her clitoris for a moment before plunging two fingers deep inside her visibly wet entrance. He felt his cock swell and twitch from watching her delve deep inside herself. Her hips rocking with need while she panted and moaned quietly. She strained her thighs apart, pulling her fingers out to vigerously rub her clitoris and then pushed them back into herself.

"Oh, please..." she moaned, quickening her movements. She strained and rocked, finally orasming around her fingers. She bit her lip and let out a series of low moans, continuing to please herself for a moment before she withdrew her glistening fingers.

And then she opened her eyes and saw him. Confusion and then fear flitting through them. She opened her mouth with the beginnings of a scream.

He lunged foreward and covered her mouth, shushing her. She started fighting to get him off of her, screaming behind his hand. Her eyes were wide and terrified and he tried to explain but she kept bucking her body against him and clawing at him. Finally he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her down onto the couch, pinning her beneath him. His body was situated between her open thighs, his hardned member pressed firmly against her. She started crying, her breath coming out in terrified huffs.

"Silence." he commanded as she almost threw him off of her, "I will remove my hand, but you must be silent."

She calmed down a little and he withdrew his hand from her mouth. "Please, don't hurt me..." she pleaded.

"What? Why would I hurt you..." the realization that he had just abruptly grabbed her right after watching her orgasm and that his bulge was pressed against her dawned on him. She thought that he was going to have his way with her,"surely you don't think?"

Confusion came over her and she calmed down, tear tracks still staining her cheeks and her face flushed. "I don't... your p-penis is..." she took a deep breath, "it's very hard."

Severus recoiled in disgust, shoving her roughly into the couch while he stood. "I have no intention of raping you, today or ever, Miss Relic. I came to give you your potions. I didn't realize you were... _masturbating."_

She turned scarlet, pushing down her panties and buttoning her shirt. He watched her with some amusement. Her hair was disheveled and her legs were still shaking. Wether it was from her orgasm or from being caught... he wasn't sure.

"I'm- I wasn't... I..." Severus raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. She bit her lip and looked down in shame. "I didn't know anyone came in until I saw you."

He produced the vials of _Sanguis Faux Substitutus_ and set them on the end table with a conversation ending clank.

"Next time, make sure you're alone and in your own room."

Somehow he managed to walk out of the commons and back to his chambers without shaking. The image of Miss Relic beneath him and the way she panted when she came burned in his mind.


End file.
